


Lady Constance. ( A John Plumpte fic )

by Dandelion_queen



Series: John & Constance [2]
Category: British Actor RPF, Miss Austen Regrets (2008), Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Edwardian, Alternate Universe - Regency, Edwardian Period, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Historical Inaccuracy, Historical Romance, Jane Austen-ish, Mild Smut, References to Jane Austen, Regency Romance, Sneaking Around, True Love, dress makers, just for fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 16:32:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4144755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dandelion_queen/pseuds/Dandelion_queen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Follow up from my John Plumptre fic 'Dear John...'<br/>After a bit of a chat with some friends I revealed that I had a headcanon about Plumptre appearing to be a sweet and morally upstanding young politician, a good husband and caring Father but...Lady Constance remains to be the passionate love of his life. They continue with a secret affair for the rest of their married lives.<br/>Part one - http://archiveofourown.org/works/4016236</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lady Constance. ( A John Plumpte fic )

Constance was a vision of loveliness, John couldn't help but admire her as she spoke to her friends. Yellow suited her well, indeed she put him in mind of a warm summer afternoon. He swallowed and could almost taste her, it wasn't so long since he'd taken her. A little slice of heaven for that was what she was to him, she represented freedom, lust and every sinful thing he had thought wrong..but oh she was not wrong nor would he care if it was deemed so. She consumed him, made him giddy.  
"John darling, are you feeling well? You have a queer look upon your face." John was snapped out of his reverie by the gentle voice of his wife Katherine.  
"I'm fine my little mouse." He reassured her with a good natured smile.

Katherine was day and Constance was night. They couldn't be more different yet his love for both of them was of equal standing. Marriage hadn't dampened his feelings for Constance, if anything they'd grown into a deeper affection. Constance was now married to the dashing and decorated Captain Keating, a good if not somewhat scandalous man. He was very much the sort of man John secretly wished he had the courage to be. Alas He was a man of honour...well to an extent. All morals and honour went out of the window when he would passionately take Constance. The woman was his weakness and try as he might he knew he'd always remain in love with her.

Not to say his wife Katherine was without her charms, for she was indeed a beauty. A good loyal wife and mother. He had shown her a few tricks he learned off Constance, she would lie there afterwards enraptured as though she couldn't believe her body could bring her such pleasure. His mouse was a woman he was proud to call his wife but she wasn't his Constance. Indeed his Constance wasn't truly his but yet he could never shake that feeling that it was she who should've been his wife. Her gentle but firm rebuffs never felt like a rejection.  
How many times had he asked her to runaway with him when the hot blooded desire she awakened in him had taken hold? He'd lost count.  
Constance would send him back to his wife and family always with the promise of another tryst. 

Constance knew he was looking at her, she could feel those blue eyes of his burning into her flesh causing her to remember the last time they'd been intimate. John Plumptre was a man she truly adored, perhaps as much as her husband..maybe more so.  
He'd been too innocent, too gentlemanly and most of all she knew he would break into a thousand pieces if he knew all of her secrets. He deserved the wife he had, lovely, sweet and trusting. Constance was good at appearing sweet and courteous but underneath she was anything but. John was her secret, he was her stolen moments away from running the foundling home or being the hostess to her husbands gatherings. John was her lover, her darling. He stood smiling as though listening to his wife but she knew he only had eyes for her tonight. She caught his eye and smiled seductively before turning away to her friends.  
'Oh John, you darling.' Constance thought.

He managed to slip away from all the riotous laughter in the study and peered in at the ladies as they chatted amongst themselves. He'd lost at cards and was in no mood to listen to Keating's war stories, the man was brash after a few drinks. Katherine had her back to him and was deep in conversation with Margo Blake her old friend. Indeed the only woman who seemed to sense his shadowy presence was Constance, she smirked as he stepped back out of the doorway.  
"Excuse me." She stood up.  
"Are you well Constance?" Margo enquired.  
"I need a moment." Constance lied.  
"Of course, to the top of the stairs and it's the third door." Margo smiled and went back to her conversation.  
It was just that easy, politeness made it so.  
Under the ruse of needing the lavatory Constance was excused for a while. She smirked to herself.

 

"Lady Constance, imagine meeting you here." John teased as they met at the top of the stairs. He knew they only had the briefest of moments and that the risk was great but he had to have her.  
"Mister Plumptre." she grabbed his hand and pulled him along with her.  
She knew where Margo Blake slept and tried the door, with a creak it opened and they both paused to look at each other before stepping inside. The only light was from the moonlit window as John trailed his lips down her neck, inhaling the scent of her skin. This was insane, debauched perhaps but he knew he simply couldn't help himself. John felt himself harden in response to her curvaceous body pressed against him.  
"You are maddening." he breathed as her deft little hands freed his erection. He lifted her skirts and tugged her undergarments down enough for what he had in mind.  
"Would you have me any other way dearheart?" her lips settled possessively on his. Constance always kissed him like it would be the last time just in case. She wanted every little thing about him stored safely within her thoughts should the worst happen.  
"I wouldn't change a damn thing about you." he spoke with such tenderness that a lump formed in her throat, she wouldn't cry. He always struck a nerve, foolish romantic that he was. Constance had to look away, she arched her breasts up for him and let him bury his face into her bosom. 'Please don't let this be the last time.' She thought, her hands buried in his golden curls as he managed to free enough of her to get his lips on her nipples.  
"Oh heavens."  
He stirred her passions like no other, here away from the gathering downstairs he was hers and she was his.

John had Constance rest her hands upon the window sill of Margo's bedroom and he took her. He moved hard and spared no moment that could be wasted as he pushed to that deeper heat inside her. Constance cried out carelessly and had to cover her mouth. He felt so right for her.  
"John..my love." she whispered and he knew she was close from the laboured tone of her voice. Constance pushed back to meet the rhythm of his hips, the gratifying smack of their flesh spurring them on to that dizzying moment of fulfilment.  
Constance let it take her, John felt her legs go slack and had to hold her at the waist to keep her on her feet. He soared over the edge as he felt her desire for him, she was everything to him. Mere words couldn't describe what they shared together.

"I can't go on like this. I need more of you..I just know that you need me in much the same way my love." John held her tightly in his arms, he was afraid to let her go as he never knew when he'd see her again. Constance was once again the first one to break their embrace. Without a word she handed him a small scrap of folded paper that she pulled out of her hair, it had been hidden underneath her ribbon.  
"It explains it all." she nudged at his nose with hers and left him stood alone in Margo's room with his heart hammering wildly.

John waited till Wednesday came and made his way to the address on Granters Street. He had to smile when he saw the name on the door of the dressmakers.  
Constance had never forgotten those in her care and the premises she rented for her first charge Doris looked in good shape. A tidy and neat shop led into a backroom where Doris was the young task mistress and dress designer keeping the younger girls in line.  
"Mr Plumptre." Doris smiled warmly and handed him a key. "Keep it safe."  
He discreetly slipped it into his pocket and looked about the place. "You have done well for yourself, I shall bring my wife here for a fitting. Such fine attention to detail." John fingered the lace sleeve on one of the dresses and watched Doris beam with pride.  
"Thanking you kindly. I would fit her for free." Doris offered but John wouldn't hear of it.  
After a brief chat he made his way up to the rooms over the shop while following instructions on the paper Constance had given him.  
"To the right." John said to himself and opened the door.

The sight that greeted him took his breath away. The room was decorated in a style that could only be described as bold. Rich red walls and a four poster bed with a full set of drapes in a patterned silk.  
"You took your time." Constance stepped from behind the dressing panel clad in only a white cotton slip, her smile delightfully wicked.  
John swept her up off her feet and carried her to the bed.  
"Had to have a polite chat with Doris, my dear." John loosened his cravat while Constance expertly began undoing his buttons.  
"They know this room is off limits. It's ours." She slipped his shirt off and trailed her lips across his taut chest.  
"Mm, indeed I shall visit here frequently." John sucked in breath as Constance kissed lower still.  
"Am I still a maddening creature?" he felt her lips curve into a smile against his skin before she nipped him with her teeth.  
"Of the worse kind..and by the sun how I love you." John spoke while tenderly unpinning her hair so it would fall about her shoulders.  
Alone together in their room the world outside ceased to be, it could've sank into the sea and they would've cared not as long they could lie in each other's arms.


End file.
